‘I’m glad you did,’ I told her—and it was something else I meant. Utterly.
‘Are you? Because I can put up with anything anyone says if that’s the truth. Things are different now, aren’t they?’
She gazed up at me, her eyes sparkling the same jewelled shade as the pendant I’d put around her neck. And while part of me wanted to remind her...not that different...another part of me silenced the voice of reason completely.
‘Of course they are.’ I took both her slender hands in mine as I brushed a kiss across her lips for all and sundry to see. ‘Of course they are,’ I murmured against her lips.
She nodded, her eyes closed, her whole body accepting, and suddenly I couldn’t bear to be in that stuffy ballroom for another second.
‘Let’s get out of here,’ I said against her lips. ‘Now.’
Daisy’s eyes fluttered open and she gazed at me for a long moment, clearly understanding what I was really saying—and accepting it along with everything else.
‘All right,’ she whispered.
And then I was taking her by the hand, drawing her out to the night, and neither of us was looking back.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
EVERYTHING IN ME TINGLED—no, sparkled—as Matteo opened the door to the waiting limo himself. I knew what I’d agreed to and my heart sang even as my stomach tightened with nerves. Was I sure about this? Yes. Did I know what I was doing? Not remotely.
The vicious gossip I know I’d been meant to overhear had stung, but only briefly. Like Matteo, I realised I didn’t care about the circling crows of society, only the people who were genuine, like the woman I’d met who had shown such an interest in quilting.
And Matteo. I cared about him. More and more. I couldn’t deny it to myself even if I knew better than to whisper a word of it to him. Which was why I was here, speeding through the darkness with Matteo next to me, knowing what was ahead. Sort of.
The limo pulled up in front of Arides International, one of the dozens of luxury hotels in the group that Matteo was CEO of. A white-gloved valet opened the door, and Matteo murmured his thanks before drawing me out of the car and into the building.
My every sense felt heightened as we walked through the lobby, where the chandeliers suspended above us glittered with a fierce light, the tinkle of crystal and laughter a symphony of sound. And Matteo’s hand was in mine...his fingers warm and dry and strong, drawing me ever forward.
Neither of us spoke in the lift as it soared up to the presidential penthouse where Matteo always stayed. He swiped the key card with one efficient movement and then tossed it onto a marble table in the hall before turning to me. My heart thudded so loudly I feared he could hear it—or see it, beneath the thin silk of my dress. I leaned against the closed door, breathless and expectant.
‘Daisy.’
The way he said my name, a statement of both possession and intent, thrilled me to the core. He held out his hand and I took it, our fingers lacing together as he pulled me towards him.
Our hips bumped and heat flared but Matteo took his time, brushing his lips across mine once, twice, and then settling them there. I drank him in, every sense fizzing, as we kissed and kissed and it felt as if the whole world fell away. I could be happy just like this, kissing him for ever, I thought hazily, even as an insistent, molten part of me knew that I could not.
And Matteo knew it too, for he broke the kiss and started walking backwards towards the bedroom, a sleepy smile on his face, his fingers still laced with mine.
‘No need to rush this,’ he murmured as he pulled me along. And I went—willingly, wantonly, I went.
‘No indeed,’ I managed with a shaky laugh.
Already I was feeling out of my depth. Did Matteo know how little experience I had when it came to bedroom matters? He would certainly guess, but I wondered whether I should tell the truth of it to him now.
The bedroom was full of shadows and moonlight, the bed wide and inviting, a gold silk duvet piled high with embroidered pillows. Words were bottled up in my throat and then they sank towards my toes. I couldn’t tell him. It would ruin the mood. I would feel ridiculous—even more gauche than I already did. And I was embarrassed enough already, just standing here with all my clothes on, while Matteo gazed at me, his eyes and his smile gleaming with admiration as well as something like avarice.
‘You’re so lovely, Daisy.’
He murmured the words, his hands spanning my waist as he kissed me again, his mouth slanting over mine with gentle yet persuasive possession.
‘So, so lovely,’ he whispered.
And then he kissed me again and I was lost.
I clutched at his shoulders, his back, anything I could get purchase on as his kiss consumed me. Then he stepped back and I was bereft, his absence a cold emptiness inside me.
With one finger he touched the pendant nestled in the hollow of my throat. ‘We’ll save that for last,’ he said. ‘Or maybe we’ll keep it on.’